For the first time ever, Survivor and The Office synergize. It's called real life, with less jungle, less Steve Carrell, and more packing peanuts. Because at my place of work, they recycle employees like Americans should newspapers or plastic bottles. We're left with a three employees which are not linked to the family-owned business by blood or vows. If I had three less toes, they would have fired as many people in the last two months as I have toes.
We've started to lose orders based on who is still there, and who is not. And it's very hard to blame someone who is currently unemployed. Nobody wants to make that call.
Angela? Oh, hi.
Yes, it is me from--
Oh. Yes. We really are sorry to not have you here anymore--
Yes, I suppose you're right.
Well, yes. I mean, don't take this whole thing as a judgement of your character or anything...
Yes, yes, I guess I do understand how all of this sounds.
But the reason I was calling was about this order, we just can't find it anywhere, and we thought that maybe--
Yes, I am serious. Why do you ask?
Hello?
Angela?
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